A Study in Relative Time and Space
by Cleon
Summary: The Doctor and Rose stumble into an alternate universe that is threatening to collapse.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor stuck his head out of the TARDIS to let the surroundings of the BRAND NEW planet sink in... Oh. Modern day Earth. Nothin' too special, but then again, the TARDIS worked in mysterious ways. "Oi Rose?" He said, squinting against the sun as he climbed out of the TARDIS and made his way through the back alley of a dumpsite. Lovely. TARDIS would stink for a bit. "Don' think this is a new planet... more or less. Unless the Narvraks got a bit trashy with their environment...and built a lifelike replica of London."

The blonde perked her head up as the TARDIS came to a stop, and excitedly strode over to the Time Lord. Her eyes shone brightly as the Doctor poked his head outside to exam the new planet they were at, but her expression soon fell as she heard the disappointing news. "Wot?" she raised a brow, "But I don't understand- are you SURE you sent the TARDIS to the right place?" As unlikely that it was, that the Doctor couldn't drive his own ship, Rose wouldn't put it past him to make an error every once and a while.

Frowning, the Doctor spun around once to double check. "Nope. It's Earth all right. Odd. TARDIS does this sometimes. Tends to be drawn to important parts of history when I least expect it to be." He glanced around, a bit of excitement raising in his voice. Danger or no, it was much more thrilling not knowing what was going to happen next. "Might as well poke it with a stick, and see wot moves, eh, Rose?" He waltzed off, putting his arm out for her to grab.

She pouted slightly at that, but her eyes flickered with curiosity. It never once got old, her adventures with the Doctor. She smiled as he started off, and she followed after him eagerly once she had closed the TARDIS's door behind her. Rose hooked her arm with the Doctor's and looked around, blinking. "It... looks exactly like the time when we left..." she commented, a tad bit confused as to why the time machine had sent them here in the first place.

Sherlock raced through London, annoyed that John was taking so long to follow. He failed to realise that the doc was busy apologising to every person Sherlock shoved out of the way as he ran through the crowded streets. He predicted that Moriarty was here, knew he was here, and had predicted that Sherlock would be there and predict as such, but if he predicted a head and predicted his direction that was trying to fake the actual direction of his escape, he just might be able to catch him. Dear god why was John so SLOW!?

The detective's companion struggled after Sherlock, panting heavily as he dashed after the other. He had grown used to their constant running, but he still had a problem with keeping up. Soon, though, he was next to his companion's side and glanced over at him with a quirked brow. "Hope you didn't miss me too much!" he grunted, apologizing to everyone that was shoved out of the duo's way as they sprinted down the London street.

"You take too long. We might have lost him." This of course wasn't true. Sherlock knew exactly where Moriarty was, at this moment, and where he was headed. He just wanted to make John feel bad. "Come on." He turned the corner to run into an alley, but ran smack into some skinny twig of a man and his girl.

John rolled his eyes at that, knowing perfectly well that Sherlock was lying. He stopped doubting him a LONG time ago. As they turned the corner into the alley, his jaw dropped as they saw nothing but an odd man, a girl and a blue box. "Wot?" he gaped, turning his head franticly, "Sherlock, wot happened! I thought we had him! "

- - - - Just as the two were about to go explore, they were nearly knocked over by a pair of men. She grasped the Doctors sleeve tightly in surprise as the other two stood there with surprised and confused expressions. "Um..." Rose started, blinking, "Who are you?" She turned her head towards the Doctor questioningly, wondering if he happened to know them.

Automatically getting between the strange man and Rose, the Doctor noted by the stranger's expression that he meant no harm, and his danger stance shifted to that of pleasant surprise. Until he noted the man's height. He ... was he TALLER than me? The Doctor went on his tip toes to get a glance over the strangers head, and muttered, forgetting himself, "That's just not FAIR."

Sherlock cursed, ignoring the strange man and ran around him, only coming to a complete halt in front of a police box. "That's not right. This isn't supposed to be here." He stared at it, his mind not willing to accept this. There was no reason it SHOULD be here.

Suddenly snapped back to reality, John looked up at the strangers. "Oh! I'm so sorry! We didn't see you there!" he apologized quickly before turning on his heel towards the entrance, "Sherlock! C'mon, we're so CLOSE!" he called, barely paying attention to the unusual, blue police box.

Rose became even more confused the longer the strangers stayed there. Who WERE these people? Her eyes darted to the tall one, and she stiffened as she noticed him taking an interest in the TARDIS. "Oi!" she ran in front of the time machine, blocking him, "Don't go near that!"

Sherlock squinted at the girl in front of him. Young. Lively. Traveling. Not against her will. Seen much for her age. ... And ... strange. There was a form of dust clinging to her shirt he did not recognise. And he recognized every kind of dust. This was... How could he not know that? "... You're a long way from home... But... the question is, where have you been? And wot's so important about this box?"

The Doctor pulled Rose to him, frowning again. "Sorry. Wot? We're just passing by. Got lost. You know. That box? Nothin' special. Just. Uh. Old. Monument. Thing. Yea. Sounds 'bout right."

Rose crossed her arms over chest at looked the stranger up and down. "And you shouldn't be poking your nose in someone else's business." she shot back, turning her head towards the Time Lord, "Doctor- do you happen to know these two

"Sherlock, he's getting away!" John grabbed Sherlock's sleeve and pulled him a bit harshly. They almost had Moriarty, and he was busy with a police box! Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have come as a shock to him, but they didn't have time to mess around with anything else right now!

Sherlock paused, frustrated. He couldn't read anything but the basics from those two, none of the dust or marks on them looked familiar in the slightest, and the shoes the man wore seemed to be a brand he had never seen. Who WERE they, and how did they... Right... He was shaken back to reality by John, blinked a few times, and ran off. "RIGHT. Mor...iarty." That seemed unimportant now, he knew that he had lost his chance, and the other two spiked his attention. However, he still had one last chance of getting something out of Moriarty.

"Wait a moment. Sherlock? THE Sherlock?" The Doctor turned giddily to Rose. "Rose, this isn't your /ordinary/ modern London. Well. It still is ordinary. No... flying cars or fire breathing dragons. But that's beside the point." He shook his head, to get back on track. "Sherlock, he called him Sherlock. That can't be a coincidence. You ever hear the theory of books being other dimensions tuned in by humans? Well." The Doctor spread his arms wide.

Rose stared at the Doctor with a blank expression as he explained everything horridly to her, "Doctor... I have NO idea who or wot you're talking about," she said slowly. She felt as if she had heard the name 'Sherlock' before, but it wasn't clicking at all.

John dashed down the street with Sherlock as they continued to chase after Moriarty once again. The few questions he had about the other two were quickly forgotten as the thought of capturing the villain became their main priority.

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver, squat down on the ground, and began to take a scan of the dirt. There was something too coincidental not to be purposeful, and he planned to get to the bottom of it. He was already excited about the prospect of his own hypothesis, but he thought it was best to contain the majority of that excitement. A lot of people tended to shy away when he got into his "fascinated" mode. Either way, he must have been pretty terrible at keeping it in, for he exclaimed, "It's not a match! I /knew/ it wouldn't be. Well. I guessed. But that's the first step to knowing, right? Right. Either way, we are in for a big treat, Rose."


	2. Chapter 2

Rose peered over the shoulder of the Doctor, her eyes shining with the curiosity she got whenever they found something to lead to yet another adventure. Once the news came through to the two, Rose cocked her head to the side with interest. She hadn't a clue of what he was talking about- but that's how it always was with the Doctor. Besides, she enjoyed the surprises he always had in store for her. "Well, I'm counting on you to make it worth it." Rose responded with a wide grin. She reached out and grasped the Doctor's hand, before strolling out of the alley.

Looking around with keen interest, the Doctor lowered himself a down to ground level and whisked a sample of dirt onto his finger in a single quick motion. Standing up again he tasted it, before exclaiming with excitement, "Ahah! I knew it. Alternate dimension. We, Rose Tyler, have stumbled into a universe not so different than ours, yet still different all the same. But linked. You know how? BOOKS, don't you see it? Books! The marvellous link between alternate realities only brought to life by those who can sense it!" He paused dramatically, grinning devilishly for added effect. "And do you know who's discovered universe we have just stumbled upon?"

Rose leaned against a side wall as the Doctor got to work in his crazy manner, not taken back at all by his unusual methods. After months of traveling with him, she had learned that his mad techniques were actually quite accurate. She watched him work with an amused expression, never getting tired of the unusual things that he did and dragged her in to. "Alternative dimension?" she raised a brow, "That's certainly new, isn't it?" A smile found its way on her lips as he rambled on, her interest perked. She shook her head in response to the question, allowing him to have some fun.

"Oh it's not new, Rose Tyler, it's old, older than you can imagine! Older than even me. What is the strongest, most well-known form of memory in the human mind? Stories! Why is this? Because they actually exist. Some people, some born with a gift to sense doorways into other dimensions are able to pick up on a whole different life, with a whole different world! It may not be completely accurate all the time, hence that one rubbish story Twilight, but all the same. We have stumbled into no less than the great Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's marvellous discovery! Sherlock Holmes, Rose, Sherlock Holmes!" He clapped his hands together, almost giddy with excitement. It was not every day he didn't get to meet not only a famous historical figure, but a fictional one. "And we may have stumbled into one of his famous cases."

Rose tilted her head to the side as he went on. Normally she wouldn't have listened to half of his rants, but this time her curiosity got the best of her. A story? Now that was something that got her excited. She had always been fond of books, fairy tales when she was younger, and mysteries when she was older. It had given her something to do and think about, but she found herself reading less now that she had adventures to go on with the Doctor. She had to admit, it was much more fun to live the adventures, no matter how dangerous they may be, rather than just read about them. "Sherlock Holmes?" she echoed, racking her brain to recall what she had read about the man, "Wouldn't that be with... Professor Mormon or something like that?"

"Moriarty!" The Doctor exclaimed patiently, his excitement getting the better of him. "Sherlock Holmes! The most famous detective in his world as well as ours. Don't tell me you've never read him! Good stuff, that. Classic." He forced himself to pause his train of speech before he got even more off topic than he already was. "The question is, why are we here? I obviously didn't set the TARDIS to come here, she just landed on her own. Perhaps she picked up a psychic signal. Either way, not good news. Never good news when the old girl acts up, eh?" He peered around, suddenly taking out his sonic to scan the area. "Strange. This universe seems to be a bit... unstable. Perhaps the weakened barrier between our universes is what caused the TARDIS to be absorbed into this one. We should find out what's setting this off."

Sherlock allowed himself to be led away by John, not really paying attention. His mind was still focused on that blue box. Police. Police box. Taken out of the majority of London after the invention of the cheaper, chordless phone. Only one like it left in London. Rigtht by the tube. But there it was. A second one. It made no sense. Who would take a police box, probably from the rubbish, and make it look so new? And then place it square in the middle of an alley in London? None of it made sense. Maybe it was Mycroft trying to piss him off.

John continued at a quick pace down the street, hoping to catch up with their lead- even though he knew the chances of that were slim. Damn, why did Sherlock have to be distracted by the smallest things? Speaking of the detective, John's gaze turned back, and to his suprise, Sherlock was actually trailing BEHIND him for once! John raised a brow at this. "Everything alright, Sherlock?" he asked, hoping to get the taller man's mind back on track to the case.

Sherlock glanced up at John with the faintest sense of recognition. He was too far deep into his mind to really bother with the rest of the outside world. "Yes, John. I'm fine. Somehting's just... come up." He waved it off as if it was just another one of his odd habits. "You were saying? We were... after that ... other one, right?" He tried to distract his own mind. This information of the strange box was irrelevant! He was on a case. Yet then why was he so put off guard by it? When something bothered him, Sherlock always knew it wasn't without reason.

John stared a Sherlock with an unconvinced, worried frown on his face. He could tell that something was bothering the detective, but knew that nagging him about it would get no where. He sighed, shaking his head gently. "Yes, yes. Moriarty. We were on his trail, but i'm afraid that he slipped us up... again." The last part came out in a more agrivated tone than the older man had wished, and he winced slightly as he heard it. It had a been long day for the two of them, and they were just SO close... just to have the criminal out of their grasp once more. John rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"Oh will you quit that look, you're going to make me sick." Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's worried expression. Emotions only held the mind down, and John was raging full of them. No wonder why his simple little mind hardly picked up on what Sherlock's could, let alone realise how strange that blue box had been. And those two people. He could hardly read them properly. At the mention of losing Moriarty, Shrlock's patience snapped. "There is no use getting upset over something I had no control over. Perhaps if you hadn't taken so long my calculations would have been... more precise."

John stopped in hid tracks, a mixture of offense and hurt spreading across his face at the accusation. He whipped around to face Sherlock. "If /I/ hadn't taken so long? Sherlock, we nearly had him before you decided to stop for some ruddy Police Box!" he snapped back, not in the slightest of moods to deal with this right now. He was tired, agrivated and not at all tolerant of any sort of jabs that Sherlock had rolled up his sleeves today.

"If you were't so blind to the obvious, John, you might have noticed that it was not just 'some ruddy Police Box'. How many have you seen in our time, John? The last few were disposed of 17 years prior, and are quite a rare sight to say the least. So what is one doing suddenly in such an unconvenient spot in London? No one could have used it for it's purpose there. And-" He paused for a breath, his words finally catching up to his brain. "I am wasting my time on you. If you cannot see it for yourself in the first place, you won't find much use of it." John was just cranky. He could tell by his collar and left shoe that John was in a foul mood, and talking would probably just provoke him and end with Sherlock having to "APOLOGISE" in some stupid social action that would be time consuming while so much more was needed to be done.


End file.
